(for NuNu)
dusty as machines of snow
in rhythm already known
flowers, taller than towers
grown while everyone sleeps
wanting nothing, taking nothing
but the tiniest of mysteries
in the doorway the child stands
frightened by tread as of tigers
pulped in her squinting clutch
the gossamer of dryer lint
dusty as machines of snow
in rhythm already known
flowers, taller than towers
grown while everyone sleeps
wanting nothing, taking nothing
but the tiniest of mysteries
in the doorway the child stands
frightened by tread as of tigers
pulped in her squinting clutch
the gossamer of dryer lint
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